


honey

by jackal (slander)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: #myfirstsmutfic, #pharmercy #ohgodIwrotesmut, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10491732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slander/pseuds/jackal
Summary: Written for r/pharmercy’s weekly prompt “hospital encounter,” with a 1k word limit and a hell of a time crunch…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for r/pharmercy’s weekly prompt “hospital encounter,” with a 1k word limit and a hell of a time crunch…  

I hear my dove approaching from my perch on the stiff mattress of a hospital bed. I would recognize the sound of my little bird anywhere — the rhythmic tapping of heels, the soft rifling of paperclipped outpatient reports and glossy X-rays, soft murmurs of _Mmm? Ah, Ach so.._. 

The doorknob clicks open as she glides in with a swish of snowy white doctor’s linens, still engrossed in bloodwork analyses and the latest nanotech updates, quietly shutting the door behind her with one dainty toe; she doesn’t look up as she turns, duly shuffling the next patient’s report to the top. 

If she had, she might have noticed 5'11" of Egyptian muscle and sinew standing directly in front of her. 

“So then, Miss A…Amar …i…?” 

Her eyelids, partially hidden behind swathes of golden blonde, narrow over the lovely cerulean of her irises as she lifts her attention from her papers, pupils refocusing as she slowly rakes them over her beloved pet — sculpted abs, battered dogtags glittering from over a tight black athlete’s bra —  her face a blend of confusion and sudden, unexpected desire. Ah, the perfect time to strike — 

_“Wait a mi— ”_

I saunter forward, barefoot, and she steps back in surprise to match me —  a little lovers’ tango before playtime. Back against the wall you go, my sweet Doctor; I want that perfect, black miniskirt-clad ass up against the plaster. 

“F-Fareeha, you can’t just —just —  ”

Oh, but I can, my love. _Watch me_. 

Thick dark braids and wayward strands fall forward, weighted by decorative gold bands as I casually box her in with one muscular arm, knuckled fist against the wall above her shoulder, leaning in to press my lips to hers mid-sputter —  and her protests melt into muffled whimpers as she goes limp in my arms. I can smell dark hospital coffee from styrofoam cups and fresh strawberries on her breath, taste their juice on her soft pink lips and feel the traces of sweet pulp on the tip of her tongue. 

_I can never get enough of your taste…_

She lifts her arms, rolled-up sleeves shrugging slightly back as she reaches up tenderly to hold my face as we continue to kiss… until she suddenly remembers that this is her _office_ , and my charming Doktor begins to stammer her objections anew, cheeks flushed with want.

“ _Ach meine Liebling, Gott in Himmel_ what if — what if someone comes, I have patients, I, I have reports to fi-” 

Well, my love, this may be _your_ office… but you are _my_ captive now. 

_(And someone is coming, alright…)_

I cuff her pale wrists with one dark hand in a single fluid motion and pin them against the cream-colored wall above her head with a thud, a confetti of manila folders and monochrome printouts cascading to the floor. She struggles just enough to put up appearances between moans and whimpers and gasps of _“Oh, Fareeha…”_ as my other hand begins to wander, grasping and groping at her voraciously, desperately, as if to consume her — I can’t be blamed, _habibti,_ I haven’t had you in weeks —  

Tearing open your blouse, one pearly button flying off to ricochet in the corner and be lost forever, shoving the fabric aside, greedy rough brown fingers clawing their way under the silky cups of your bra — you wore white lace today? how positively _angelic_ , sweet Doctor, it suits you—shifting them up, kneading your soft warm flesh, fingertips twisting and tweaking at nipples already taut with the prospect of being fucked in such a… professional environment. 

Oh, Angela. Everyone thinks you’re so pure, but _I_ know better… 

My kisses feathering across the peach-soft of your cheek, gusts of moist hot breath into your ear, tip of my tongue slithering a wet trail along the inner curve of your ear, teeth nipping hungrily at a lobe woefully underguarded by a gleaming pearl earring. Lower, burying my face in the warmth of your neck, nostrils flaring to breathe in your scent like the needy hound for you that I am. Five warm fingertips still groping eagerly at the soft mounds of your breasts and their garnet tips, nails digging in just enough to carve thin pink lines down the flat of your abdomen, spiraling lower and lower, drawing out thick, syrupy moans from deep within you, pulling them from your nexus, up through your whole body until at last their texture drips sticky-sweet from your lips like wild honey, and I can’t help but press my mouth to yours again for another taste, let those languorous flavors roll over my tongue.

_I can never get enough._

A captivating whimper, an adorable whine of complaint as I release those delicate wrists — but only for a moment before I sling you around, unbuttoned shirt and ivory lab coat fluttering behind you like seraph’s wings, mattress squeaking under blue-green sheets as you sink onto it. 

“Your typical outpatient short-checkup exam lasts approximately fifteen minutes,” I purr as I slither forward onto all fours, slinging your thighs over my shoulders as I use my hands to jerk your hips forwards towards my face and hike up your skirt. “And so we must hurry, _habibti.”_

Mmm. I’ll take that little moan as consent.

“We haven’t a moment to lose,” I add sweetly as I hook your soaked, almost translucent white thong to the side with one finger, caressing swollen, velvety lips with the other hand before switching to slow, heavy licks with the flat of my tongue, lapping at a very… different kind of honey that has started to run wetly down your thighs.  

Slow licks. Lick, lick… kiss, lick. Look up, into those perfect frosty blue eyes, watch them shudder to a close as she arches her back with pleasure, nipples glistening with saliva.

“So it’s a very good thing…” 

Lick, lick, kiss…  swirl with middle and ring finger, one last slow, rough lick as I  — ah, there we are.

_Mm… Mmmph!_

Never enough.

“… that you’re already so wet, my love.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn’t originally meant to be smutty, but… oh dear. Smutty it is! This is my first time writing such a thing, so hopefully it’s not complete garbage, and I was in a bit of a rush as I’m leaving for a short trip tomorrow. I’m not sure how I feel about the switching of subject (“you” / “her”), but I hope you enjoyed it —  and please do visit us over at r/pharmercy!
> 
> Jammed to yetep’s March mix “Desire” (https://soundcloud.com/imyetep/desire-march-mix) while working on this piece.


End file.
